By the wind's name
by amechan87
Summary: I hate romance yet I'm here writing it. Arren X Saserakh A little spin off from The Other Wind
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The false proposal

The young king sat on the floor with both his knees flexed. He silently counted from one to any number he could as he tried his best to steady his breathing.

Anger.

It wasn't something that could trouble him, it wasn't something that could break him, shattering his mask, smashing his composure to miniscule pieces. In fact, he was one of those who held anger by the chain, manipulating it to awe, to charm, to comfort, to scare or even to let others do to his biddings. But, no matter how trained he was, how practiced, angry he was that day with all the things that happened till he was forced to seek refuge inside his own dressing room to burst out and then collect himself again, frightening his old servant, Oak in the process.

Finally, he sighed, a relieved but troubled sigh and glanced around the room only to be greeted with the sight of the gilded scroll yet again. Up on the table, the scroll poorly lay in taters, a dagger was stabbed right through it and it stayed silently as if no one would believe it was the message of the High King Thol of Karg. To Arren, it wasn't as silent as it was then. In fact, the whole words it bore were clearly echoing in his head mocking the voice of the Thol's ambassador as he read it out loud in public before handing it to him.

"_Let the daughter of Thol the High King, who sits upon the throne of Thoreg and whose ancestor was Wuluah, wear the Ring of Peace upon her arm as Queen Elfarran of Solea wore it, and this will be the sign of everlasting peace between the Western and the Eastern Isles."_

Oh, how his pride had shattered by that sudden and extreme offer. Instead of peace the High King Thol had given him a threat destroying even his peace of mind. Almost he regretted writing a message to him asking to make peace by totally forgetting about himself, who was young still and without a queen. A sly king could easily take an advantage out of this, by getting to him in a most unexpected, difficult and painful way. Of course, it wasn't difficult and painful in the High King's part as everybody knew how the Karg treated their daughters.

And she was, as Arren saw it, a tool to strengthen the High King's shaky throne. Just to think about it boiled the royal blood in his veins.

The princess didn't say a word during the receptions, as expected, and she stood faceless among her servants and the ladies that were assigned to take care of her and do her honour. She was veiled from top to toe, and neither her looks nor her emotion could help the king made his decisions.

He couldn't bluntly turn down the offer, could he? And neither had he any excuse. Doing so would mar the High King Thol's honour, disgrace him to the lowest degree possible and the peace treaty would be but a dream.

Therefore, appearing as collected as he could, he said in his clear quiet voice, "The High King Thol does us great honour." Then, he paused and with a pin drop silence the whole court and emissaries waited. "You are welcome here, princess," the king said to the veiled figure. It did not stir. The fact that she might be mute or deaf did not at all clear Arren's suspicion. Almost he thought that she was a pure brick-carved pillar or a palm tree in a red headdress or an android even, if the king live in those eras. Seriously, what lowly yet royal prank was sent to him!

"Let the princess be lodged in the River House and let all be as she desires," King Lebannen said and the crowd cheered.

Up on his seats, he heard some of them said, "The Queen House?" The Queen House was the other name for the beautiful, newly repaired and refurnished castle and the fact that it was, had opened a new door for another king's gossips which all his courtiers and people enjoyed doing so much. He realized what he did too late, though and the gossips went through the courts and halls, spreading out like wildfire.

_King Lebannen had instantly lodged the princess in the Queen House!_

Oh, how his pride had shattered because of this! And all his men were clueless of the impending peril the Thol had set for him. He used his daughter. He used the Sacred Ring, Tenar and Ged's ring. He used him.

"A ring in her arm and a collar around my neck," he snorted, a rush of air denoting amusement despite the overwhelming fury he had had before. "I will not let him use me! By my name I will destroy Thol and his kingdom before I let him use me as a footstool for his throne!" With a clenched fist he buried his face to his knees like a child and skipped his dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 : The lost princess

Far at the end of the long table Lebbannen sat in silent. There was a good deal of plates clanking, and spoons scrapping for the rest of the members of the table yet, Lebannen didn't seem to mind the barbaric noise they made as they ate. Everybody seemed to be busy talking and listening to the interesting conversation that nobody seemed to care of a proper etiquettes albeit the presence of the king.

Even Micheal, Lord Patterner's first pupil who had just arrived at dawn from Roke was eagerly engaging in the topic and was now the center of the discussion. Before that, Arren wondered if he should invite him for breakfast that morning lest the young wizard might be weary from the journey and all but he invited him anyway. Now, looking at him, Arren was glad that he had. At least, he was there to lighten things up and steal all the lords' attention from him.

Indeed, Arren woke up with a foul mood this morning and hadn't a heart to answer too many questions. If possible, he would pretty much pretend to be ill and eat in his own chamber undisturbed. Really, at a time like this people should just ignore him and leave him alone to his own device. Still, as a host, though, and as the head of the kingdom, he had to entertain his guest no matter in what condition he was in.

_Damn royal duties!_

"The plague in the west has worsened. More children and women had caught the cold and fever and more of them also died. The sorcerers and herbalists that the king had sent had yet to find the cure for the disease," The Lord of the west said while some representatives of Kargs stared at him. Arren wondered whether they could understand him though.

"Does it mean that the balance had really been disrupted this time?" Micheal said munching a half-cook bacon in his mouth.

"Whatever had caused it, may have made even the dragons unease," The Lord of the west continued eagerly.

Arren caught the soft murmurs from the rest and some cried in surprise, "The dragons?"

"Perhaps it is so. They kept burning the village for no reasons, threatening the people till they abandon their home."

"Perhaps, it isn't the balance at all. Perhaps they are commencing a war against us," another lord butt in with more murmurs and spoons scraping this time.

"Then, what should we do?" Micheal said in a still mouthful voice. He gulped shoving the entire munched food down his throat and continued "Should we fight back? We haven't done so for a long time since the reign of Erreth-Akbe. And it was a long painful war."

The Lord of the West looked intently at the young somewhat laidback wizard. His gaze was sharp and thoughtful, as if considering a life and death decision. Unlike him, Micheal was calm despite the serious topic. Just like his master he had complicated things against war. Really, he would rather be quiet and grow trees.

But, will it really, solve the problem…?

"Yet, the sword is again restored to us. Perhaps, it was a sign that victory will be upon us." This was said by another nameless lord at the other side of the table and another round of debate started all over again.

Arren was no longer following the conversation by then. His mind was drifting far away from his castle to somewhere else where he could be free from all those troubles. Seriously, things had gone a little out of hand lately. It started off with the plague in the west. If he hadn't too much duty to attend to and reports or letters to sign, we would personally rush there to see what's going on. Rumors had it that the plague was quite strange in its nature that black magic might be involved. Some also said that the balance itself was a little off, that some wizard should be sent to fix it in order to stop the plague. If that be the case, Arren was deeply worried.

He wasn't a wizard and the matter now lies beyond the realm of his power. He was a king, yes, but just an ordinary king, a man. Just when he had sent some powerful sorcerers to mend the situation another crisis occurred in the same place which dragons once again, after nearly a hundred years, waging a war against him. All that they need is one clever mediator who understood both sides, men and dragons, so that they will know what was wrong. Yet, those who knew the old speech were scarce nowadays and he definitely wasn't one of them.

_Great, he thought that he was extremely good in playing kings! It had never been so hopeless!_

Then, he's going to need the help from Roke again this time, a reason Micheal was there to begin with. But, the man had told him, he's knowing the old speech was a plus, nevertheless he knew very little about dragons making no improvement to the whole situation. That was why, he decided to write to Tenar in Gont hoping that Lord Sparrowhawk would be concerned enough to offer a little counsel. After all, Tehanu was their daughter. But, he knew after all that happened the man will not care about his affair, and to think that he will be able to fight again by his side was just a wishful-thinking in his part.

Why hadn't he replied his letters, by the way?

Why did he ignore him? Did he make the mage angry?

He was a precious master to him, a teacher whom he really loved, who would die in his stead, and to whom he too would gladly die for…

Why did he abandon him after giving him his kingdom...?

"We must first hear what the king says." A stern voice said and all attentions were suddenly flung back to him. Lebannen blinked as he sharply inhaled in surprise.

_Tsk._ He had never been caught in a trance before, not even by his mother. And now that he had… _some kind of kings you turned out to be, Arren_. A look of lost was clearly visible on his face and he slowly managed an awkward thin smile - his poor attempt to hide his embarrassment. Lucky him, it looked like a scurrilous smirk instead. The fact that the whole table mates weren't surprised was an understatement.

It made it as if he had been thinking of some kind of kinky stuff during the trance.

"Your majesty?" Questions were written all over their face now, as they waited for his answer. But, answer he could not. He couldn't help it either, he couldn't solve the problems, be it the plague or the dragons, he, King Lebannen, who had gone through perilous journeys, who had crossed the Land of the Dead and live to tell the tale, couldn't do a thing.

"You majesty, are you ill? You barely touch your food." This came from Oak, his old servant, who had been standing beside him the entire time. A genuine look of concern hovered across his beloved wrinkly face. Despite his disappointment Arren had truly felt ashamed then. He had worried Oak again. He hates to worry him and after his outburst in his chamber days ago, he swore by his blood and name that he wouldn't do it again.

"I'm sorry, my mind wanders and I wasn't listening," he said smiling weakly before turning back to the lords in front of him. "Perhaps, the counselors could explain it all again. Do not worry, I am not ill."

"Are you weary then, sire?" The Lord of the West was first to spoke. He knew the young king very well, having to deal with him a couple of times since the crisis broke and to see him lost in thoughts was rather unlikely of him. It… worried him.

"No, I am not. There's just too much things in my mind right now," Arren told them with a certain tone for his men to stop probing in his matter. He was in a difficult position right now, and receiving too much attention might rather bring him under. The lords and the wizards got the message right and took the chance to back off. Clearly, the brief display of concern had in a way unknown to them, irked him. The young king took whatever it was in his plate and elegantly put it in his mouth.

"Perhaps, we shouldn't have discussed the depressing things during breakfast, should we?" Micheal said merrily lighting up the mood.

"You are right. Let's discuss some merry things first this morning. Maybe, about the wedding arrangement?" Arren almost chocked with the food he had just swallowed.

"Speaking of that, The Princess has not joined us."

"The Princess was a little unwell this morning and decided to have breakfast in the River House."

_Typical!_

"If she was unwell, there's no need for her to travel down to the house of Maharion, is there, sire?"

Lebannen slowly put down his knife and fork and sighed. He had truly lost his appetite.

* * *

><p>Princess Saserakh sat at the balcony of the River House facing the view of the great river. The meandering stream glittered as it flowed as if there were some magical gold mines underneath it. And throughout its bank, the beautiful forest stood, red, yellow and green, dancing, fluttering and rustling in the wind. A series of smooth autumnal waves, she thought, unlike the calm flow of the stream. It was the most enchanting scenery she had ever seen, and she could go on sitting at the balcony watching it till the end of days.<p>

Yet…

Still…

She could not help missing the sight of the bleary sandy dunes during sunrise.

She could not help but remember the endless seas of sand underneath her feet, scorching hot during the day but freezing cold at night.

She could not help but be reminded of the bright sky above the dark flat land.

There's nothing to be compared with the sight presented before her from the River House, yes, yet still, she remembered, she missed and she longed for the dessert of Hur-at-Hur, for it was her home, the place she was born and raised to be the young woman she was. But, home she wasn't then, and should never be.

It seemed her entire memories were robbed from her ever since she was robbed of her home. And all that was left were fragmented, twisted and dark and it loomed like shadows in her head. Why was it, everything had become so empty and painful to her. And she was left, dazed in a foreign castle, a foreign countries, where only her own servants she brought could speak her language. Seriously, they sounded all bambadababa to her. What a weird language Hardic was! As expected of the language of the sorcerers.

And she felt it, at the tip of her tongue, at the bottom of her heart and in every fiber of her beings.

Loneliness…

She had not thought that after death would be so lonely. Of course she wasn't dead, but the moment her father, the king of Karg had told her about the marriage, it sounded more like a death penalty itself. She knew he never love her as much as her older sisters, she was the one who killed his wife, taking her life in return of hers on the day she was born. Once, an assassin was hired to end her life, poison was put in her food so that she will die. But, Saserakh wanted to believe in her father. What kind of father would pay to kill his own flesh and blood? Yet, to think that he will send her away, away from her beloved home, away from her friends, he had killed her, he had killed her entirely.

To kill your enemy is to be friends with them, they said. And she understood that her father was just trying to kill the king of Havnor by making him an ally – and in a way by murdering her. But, will the marriage really seal the peace between the two lands? Did the King of Havnor really mean peace? And did her father really wish for that peace? And she… She had become the sacrificial goat for this flimsy peace treaty. A tool.

Who knows when she will get killed? Who knows when she will be thrown away? The king of Havnor didn't seem to like her all that much, she could tell by the brick-walled expression he wielded during the reception. Therefore, he wouldn't marry her like a normal peace treaty would. Perhaps, he would send her back, and as traditions go, all returned consorts are a disgrace and should be killed. Saserakh clenched her fist. Which nitwit created a ridiculous rule like that?

If ever Havnor became sick of the treaty and decided to turn against Kargs. To start the war, all the sorcerers have to do was to kill her. She will die anyway, no matter what happened. She will be used like tools, sacrificed like goats, no matter where she goes. What was changed was just the place she will die.

Starting on that day, she became the enemy's possession.

Starting on that day, she had lost her soul and her life.

_Like I will let you, sorcerers, get the best of me!_

Looking at the breath-taking scenery, a painful tear silently slipped down her blue eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Tenar's arrival

The breeze was stunningly calming as the port of Havnor came in sight. All worries that had been weighing down Tenar's shoulders slowly ceased and a satisfying smile crept onto her lips. It had been a while for her to travel long and far like this, and what's more with Tehanu by her side, she had never thought that they would actually reach the destination. She knew that child didn't like people much and to think that she had good-naturedly survived the voyage without any problem was a good sign. She hoped that no trouble will occur once they reach the royal palace later. That child, she hated attentions.

Tenar squinted to find the dock more crowded than usual. The people around looked restless too, not in the distressing way but, strangely enough, in the other way round. The air felt different too, for some reasons. Tenar could not put a finger on it but the people of Havnor seemed to be celebrating something.

Not far from the port, furthermore, anchored in the water of Havnor was a gallant ship of great draught with many kingly oars, and its great magnificent sail softly fluttering in the wind. Tenar recognized the flags and the figurehead at once, almost sending chills down her spine. Were she a different woman, she might as well cross the railings and throw herself overboard. Yet, she was Tenar of Gont, who was brave, who had traveled far and seen many things, who was now, needless to say, unbound and free and the murky memories were but a tale long gone in the diary of her life. She stood, instead, steadily, calmly, watching the ship and crowds with awe. Now, that she was looking carefully at them the second time, she noticed a happy cheering crowd complete with colourful balloons and… what are those?... garlands of many sorts. Such happiness, an unexpected smile crept back onto her lips. Still, she could not stop to wonder why the royal ship was there, on the first place.

"Will there be a festival in Havnor?" Tenar asked the shipwright, who happened to stand with her on the deck.

"Festival indeed, my lady. Not a week ago, the Lord of Maharion had accepted a consort from Kargs."

"A consort?" Tenar almost spat out the words in surprised. It took her all to actually calm herself down yet appeared normal in front of the good shipwright. In her mind, she noted that Lebannen had said nothing in his letter about that, save the dragons. Whether Lebannen had turned pretty sly himself with age by referring the princess with _the dragon_, she had no idea at all. But, judging by how Lebannen was, as Tenar knew how he was, she surely doubted it. _ Must be a surprise, indeed. _"You mean King Lebannen and Princess of Kargs are engaged?" she asked curiously.

"For the peace treaty, Madam," the shipwright confirmed rather delightedly. "King Lebannen had asked for a truce. It is indeed the era of change. No one wants to be in war anymore, now, do we? Even for the people of Kargs. Thus, the king of Kargs had offered his daughter for the peace of both countries."

_Why am I not surprised? Kargs always had many daughters after all. Yet, Lebannen…_

"Everyone is looking forward to the wedding!" he continued. "Enough with the rumours of Ladyship This and Countess That – I wonder why they love the gossips so much. Finally, Havnor will truly have a queen!" The shipwright said admiringly with a big laugh. Tenar had softly laughed along with him as well, since it seemed to be the most prudent thing to do. Inside, however, she could not help being worried. Lebannen didn't seem to care about marriage at all- in his many letters, lax or urgent, he never even mentioned it once- nor did he was in an age eager enough to be involved in one. Yet perhaps, she had forgotten how big he had grown to be so surprised to the news of him getting engaged.

_Wake up, Tenar, he's not a child, anymore! Oh, Arren, my boy, Ged will be surprised that his eyes will bulge out!_

"When will the wedding ceremony be, I wonder?" she asked after a while looking at the excited crowds of people. Surprisingly, the shipwright had not answered her question as quickly as he did before. In fact, the moment she turned to study his face, she saw an anxiously embarrassed face.

"Well, they… actually, Madam, even during the receptions…they…they never say," thus, he said awkwardly before walking away. Tenar stared at his retreating back curiously as she pondered on what that meant.

_Hmmm… did I smell a rat, somewhere…this doesn't bode very well._

It was really at that time, Tehanu came over, leaning against her like a cat, with the fingers of her good hand entwining with hers. Despite the good weather, she had the hood of her blue cloak on, hiding the half of her scarred face and the soft fabric gently brushed against Tenar's cheeks as she nuzzled against her shoulders. Really, she had done so just once after they sat sail from Gont and that was when they came across a nasty storm along the way. Tenar wondered, what had made the brave hearted Tehanu to come over seeking comfort, this time? Perhaps, it was the excitement in the air at the port of Havnor that made her dragon heightened senses flared. Dragons, young or old, disliked crowds. Tenar smiled, reaching over, patting her head softly.

"Are you not feeling well, Tehanu?" Tenar asked, the smile never leaving her lips.

"Nervous," the girl said simply with her usual quiet voice.

"Nervous?"

"I don't like palace to begin with." There was a sulky pitch in her voice that made Tenar's smile widened. So, she was finally at her limit. She had been very good the entire voyage though, and that deserved some credits. Obviously, she needed to choose a different route to the palace after this, the one of the quietest and the less traveled by, for Tehanu's sake.

"But, this is Lebannen's palace we are talking about…" She told her in her gentle motherly tone while rubbing the back of the child's hand with her thumb.

"How can it be that different?" she replied rather morosely still.

"He's a nice king, and he knew you. He will treat us well." Tenar inwardly snorted to herself amused. She had said it as if to comfort a child of a new neighbour who will never tease her. She doubted that a girl, Tehanu's age, would really buy it. But, this is Tehanu we're talking about, she was, no matter how she looked, no matter what she was, Tenar's dearest daughter. She knew her, and she knew her well.

There was a soft grunt coming from the girl as she pouted under her hood. In truth, she still had a faint memory of being held in the arm by a gentle nice-smelling young man. She didn't know that he was a king then, even if Tenar had told her so. Drat, she didn't even know what a 'king' means!

"Besides, after reading his letter, you decided to help him, didn't you? And that is why we are here. I have always trusted your decision, Tehanu." Tenar felt a squeeze in her hands as her child literally buried her face onto her shoulders. Like what was said, she knew Tehanu well. She knew how fragile yet how strong she was. In fact, she was really, really strong. She just needed a little motivation, that was all. And, no matter what, she would always protect her. Hoping not to face anymore trouble for her sake, with a hopeful smile she squeezed hers back.

"I want to help him, but…please…just please… stay by my side, Tenar."

The ambassadors from Kargs lined up gallantly at the entrance of the castle during the leave taking ceremony as their representative made his speech. Truthfully, Arren understood nothing of what being said. He stood silently and patiently in front of the courtyards of men, waiting for his interpreter to announce things in Hardic. The representative was expressive enough while making that speech though, and Arren could guess a hundred misunderstandings from those interesting facial expressions. Still, he held himself together and kept listening.

In truth, Arren felt slightly tired. He drained himself with too much thought lately, he was aware of that, and at night, he keeps loosing sleep. Now, even he was in a middle of an important ceremony – a ceremony he had been looking forward to and avoided all at the same time- he couldn't stop his mind looking at such useless details – as useless as the representative's funny facial expression- for his own royal amusement.

"As stated in our King's gilded scroll, The High Princess will remain in Havnor so long as Havnor needed her and do her honour…"

Arren's eyes slightly widened to the mention of the royal gilded , his heart almost dropped to his feet because of it, but being a trained and collected king and all, nothing betrayed his expression. _I swear there wasn't any contract I need to sign there, wasn't there? They didn't want it back, did they? _He had no idea how to explain to them that how in Earthsea the scroll ended up ripped to tatters. _Damn you, Thol! I really did lose it that day!_ Yet, slowly, Arren began to feel guilty of what had happened.

"Therefore, we shall sail back to Kargs with the tidings of this treaty, to our Lordship, King Thol, son of Thoreg, and hereby convey whatever the Lord of Havnor dictates upon us, and upon our Ladyship."

Again, the pin drop silence ensued. All ambassadors, guests and courtiers, including his people down there in the courtyards were all still, waiting for his ultimate answer to break the silence like a spell. Only the howl of breeze was heard, blowing the royal flags and banners and his rich purple mantle behind him.

_This is it._

Seven days after the receptions, he had had enough of running away. He had been, in a way unknown to himself and the others, dodging the questions to the best of his ability. He was not the one to be blamed really. With all enough problems to occupy his mind, he had been expecting good news from Kargs that he will have a strong ally to help him. It will ease his heart to think that albeit the impending threat of the dragons, his people will be able to live in peace, at least, without the harm from the other country. Yet, unfortunately, he honestly didn't expect this to come along. And, he was then, much to his dismay, being reduced to a man with utter confusion. He knew he couldn't make up his mind without something to lose. Therefore, he chose to run away, dodged the questions, changed the subject, thought of something else of more importance, locked himself in the study, you name it. Ever since that day, and even until now, no one had heard, no one could really anticipate what his decisions might be regarding the princess of Kargs, no, not even himself.

Really, he was tired of it.

Stealing a glimpse towards the Ladyship in red – not that it could help him to clear his mind – receiving nothing but a faceless presence, King Lebannen looked back to his people and the noble people of Kargs before him.

The moment of truth.

He knew he could never run away from this, no, not anymore.

This was the time… the time to give his ultimate answer to King Thol's daring question.

"_Marry my daughter, you squirt!" _

Arren opened his mouth and all head looked up with all attention they could give. Mother silenced their children as well as husbands hushed their nagging wives. Guards clasped their weapons as how the courtiers hold their tongue. Up on the royal platform Lords swallowed their sighs while Nobles bit their lips. Indeed, the soft, graceful yet firm voice of their king was something no one could afford to miss, no, not right then.

"Noble people of Kargs, tell thy Lordship that Havnor shall gladly have her. And that the Ladyship will be but one of the pillars of this kingdom, and that she will be honoured, worshipped, protected and loved like any other princess in Havnor, and she will be thus, the soul of Havnor itself, for Havnor is now her home, her family, her fortress. And I swore by my name, and my lineage, that the Ring of Peace shall be in her arms and bare the name, the Princess of Peace. Never will she be without this land and there will be no Havnor, for sure, without her."

That was the answer and the crowds below cheered rising a hairsplitting vibrations to the royal platform above. The smiles of the ambassadors lightened up and some maids in red at the back give themselves a few blissful hugs. A sign of a job well-done.

"Thus, peace shall be sealed between these two lands, of Havnor and Kargs!" The representative announced, but that was barely heard as the horns were blown, and both the people of Havnor and Kargs cheered even not hearing the very word. Arren found himself smiling too, to the sight of his people cheering. Well, he was a king, and it was his job to keep them well and happy at all time. To see them extremely overjoyed like this, almost, he felt like he had done a good thing, well, almost! _My people, I will protect ye no matter what, even if I'll be forced to fight a war, with only my own sword and on a lonesome steed, even if I know there will be no hope for me, even if I shalt die._ Truly, none will know how much effort was hidden behind the king's simple smile.

In his mind, reflecting on what was said, he couldn't possibly understand what he decided to do with the faceless princess as he made the silent mental checklist. In truth, the words were out before he could really plan them. And worse, he had spoken like he was dreaming. Something was missing in his answer.

Will he accept the princess? Yes. Will he let her live here, in Havnor? Yes. Will he give her Tenar's ring and named her the Princess of Peace? Yes. Then again, will he really take the princess as his wife…?

Yet, amidst the bellowing horns and the cheers no one seemed to care about it at that very moment. Or worse still, they might have jumped to the very conclusion before his words were spew forth.

The ambassadors and the nobles of Kargs slowly started to descend the great stairs, and Arren stayed rooted where he was watching them leave. He knew their ship was ready at the port and there'll be no hindrance as they headed homeward. Oh, indeed, how relief he was! It would be bad for them to know that he still had no idea of what to do. The fact that everybody was jumping to conclusion had pathetically saved him.

As they were leaving, Arren saw the red princess descended as well. She reached out to one of the old maid, ever so gently, as if to stop her from leaving. The old maid turned to her, surprisingly with tearful eyes. She kissed the concealed forehead then and hastily moved away, turning away, like it was wrong to even touch or sat eyes on her. The red princess stopped mid-step, looking rather longingly towards her, hands still wishfully reaching out to her, yet she did not turned back. At that time, Arren believed something had really snapped at that time, like a long red thread snipped by a scissors, and Arren's heart was clutched with both sadness and pity. If only he could tell the old maid to stay, yet the Kargs had made it clear. Not even a single escort was allowed to be left behind. _That draconian Thol, she will be alone here…_

Her small unreachable hands quivered slightly and she quickly pulled it closed to her heart. Mirroring the old maid, not having a heart to watch them leave, she hastily turned away facing none other but the piercing gaze of King Lebannen who stood high on the royal platform. He caught her gasp in surprised, not knowing that she had an audience, and he too, not expecting to be caught staring felt a rush of breath escaped his mouth.

There was a magical moment of silence as they stood facing each other, and Arren swore that everything were completely lulled or simply disappeared. If only he could see her face, will he know exactly what she kept in her heart? If only the breeze will move the veil over her features, will he then, see the tears in her eyes…

One of the servants later approached her to take her back to the River House. With that she turned away from him and left.

At the same time, Arren's faithful servant came and approached him. There was still a dazed and confused look in his eyes from the previous event when he turned and that surprised Oak pretty much. Such look, confused, dazed or puzzled was foreign on his face. Yet, the old servant knew better than to ask him and passed it off as just being surprised of his silent appearance. Besides, he had an important message to him. The young king leaned towards the old servant as he whispered to him the news.

Then, with a louder gasp, Arren's eyes widened, and in a second bolted away into the castle leaving the cheery and joyful ceremony behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The priestess of Kargs

Tenar stood in the prestigious hall trying not to stare too much. In truth, she used to live in a place this lofty but she had forgotten how long she had left all those behind. Almost, without her coat around herself – the person in waiting had taken it earlier – with only her usual dress, she felt miserably out of place. Seriously, she came here to see a king, and the big thing called kingship was written all over the place and being in that hall made her felt slightly queasy. No wonder Tehanu hated castle that much. Well, unless she was raised in one and she had given her all that comfort like this, she might not have hated it on the first place. Not that she's comparing it with the place they lived right then in Gont. Not that she's longing for this kind of place either. That small farm in Gont, God had given her peace in that place. God had given her freedom, a child to love and what's more, Ged, the man that she loved. Truly, there was no place in the world to be compared with it.

It didn't take long for her to hear light quick footsteps coming her way, and she turned just in time to face a handsome young man panting and heaving for breath as he emerged from within the rows of hallways, arches and chambers. Looking at how he was, Tenar had a brief idea from where he had run all the way from. Clad all in his formal white royal robes, with his richly embroidered purple mantle behind him, Arren seemed, as Tenar put it, slightly taller than he used to be, slightly older, and more good-looking than she remembered he was. That day when they met on the ship, putting his kingly aura aside, she remembered how thin and how small he was. Arren was definitely younger and no bigger than her own son, then, a boy. After all, he was still too young when he was crowned. Now, after twelve years had passed, the man who stood before her had… dare she to say it, changed… in so many ways that Tenar couldn't possibly described them all in words. He was lean and tall - a proper built made for a king- walked in a gait more suave and stern than any man she had ever seen and with a presence more enchanting than he had ever been.

Taking in her presence, the ever sweet smile emerged on those thin lips of his and he stopped panting and walked steadily, longingly even towards her. His fine hands quickly reached up for his crown as he walked and in one swift tug he pulled it off his head, dark soft fringes fell down his forehead. She was surprised at how willing he was to throw his rank before her. Honestly, it made her old heart raced just like he did on their first meeting, when he tried to bow and kneel to her and she had to valiantly catch his hands just to stop it.

This time, he was the one who reached hers and just as softly kissed them.

"Tenar, it's good to see you!" he said as he looked up to her. Just as he was, vulnerable in his honesty, Tenar could clearly taste the joy in his heart as she looked at his face, his smile, his eyes. The wound of the fire was still evident, however, in his clear eyes, still so far older than his age.

"It's been awhile, Lebannen. And look how you have grown!" she laughed and with tears in it. Indeed, seeing the man he had become, she would cry, she would cry in joy a thousand times over.

"Did you come alone?" he asked as he embraced her, a formal welcoming gestures, laying one cheek to cheek.

"Tehanu's with me. She's in one of the guest room the attendants had assigned us." Lebannen, still not letting go of her hands led her to the middle of the hall where a simple throne and seats were neatly arranged as if for a small counsel. "Well, pardon her, Sire, I left her there for the child is a little tired."

"Nay, Tenar. Drop the formalities. I'm just Lebannen when I'm with you." He was Lebannen to her in the letters, but she just couldn't resist it, now that he was there before her in person looking all grown up. Lebannen stopped and turned back to her, his dark eyes gleeful and impatient. "Well, about Tehanu, let her rest, we won't discuss anything before tomorrow. And, in fact, you should be resting as well, Tenar, but I would like to have a little word with you. Oh, please wait here for a moment." The king strode to one of the seats and brought one with him to Tenar. He put the chair in front of her and literally ran to take her hand and let her sit. "Here, Tenar, have a seat, you must be tired."

"Thank you." Tenar smiled rather awkwardly as she sat wondering will the king go and take another seat for himself - truly, it would be strange to be the only one sitting while he, the king, stood. Instead, the young man held her hands and knelt down in front of her, indeed, like a good son would to his mother.

Tenar's heart instantly melted. The weariness she carried along her journey all gone. The day she had set eyes on him, she already liked the boy. He had said kind words to her, helped her, gently treated her, the all sweet character of a child which all parents dream of and are proud of. That day on the ship, a son he already was to her, and in his many letters, the way he addressed her, told her everything, asking news, seeking counsel, a son he was still, and of course even right then. He was and always will be her sweet dear Lebannen.

"So, how was Gont?" he asked with a smile.

"Everything's fine and lovely."

"Did you find the good dog that you wanted?"

"I did. Mrs. Lark found one for me and it had been a good farm dog ever since."

"So Tehanu hasn't made a fuss on the crows any longer, has she?"

"Thankfully, no. An angry dragon is truly terrifying."

"Terrifying indeed, yet not enough to scare the crows." Tenar chuckled at his wit and smiled.

"I hope you will not say that in front of her, Lebannen."

"Do not worry, Tenar. I still wish to rule my kingdom." Then, there was a pause. Though his smile didn't falter, in his clear eyes Tenar knew whose name was slowly drifting in his mind right then. She wasn't sure whether he would say it out loud judging by the circumstances. For some reasons, Tenar had thought that Lebannen might crumble once the very subject was raised. Therefore, she decided to be silent, if he didn't want it raised. Really, he's not to be blamed, though, she supposed. Twelve years were quite a long time to wait and she gave him credits for that.

"And Ged? Is he well?" he said finally, a slight quiver in his sweet dark eyes.

Tenar began to smile. He was one of the two who had traveled to the Dry Land, after all, a position given not to whom born with the lack of any strength.

"Old, but well, just like me." With that the young king started to laugh softly, whole-heartedly pulling both Tenar's already wrinkly hands and kiss them again gratefully like he would to his mother. He later buried his face onto that hand, and for once let everything that had been constricting him for the whole months, the whole weeks bled silently out of him to the floor right where he had been sitting. In truth, even without Ged, with Tenar there, he felt a thousand times at ease.

Tenar surely saw what was wrong the moment Arren knelt before her. Being a king, he was capable to show others what he exactly felt in just one single act. But, this silent display of emotion was something others didn't see coming from him. No one had seen him stoop and what's more kneeling before another person besides his parents. No one had seen him being subservient and so fragile like this. There must be something so grave bothering him then to have the king of Havnor in such distress. Luckily, Tenar was shrewd enough to know that. And, she didn't have to peer into his deep eyes hidden under the dark bangs between her palms to figure that out.

"Lebannen," Tenar called, her voice soft and careful, as if weaving a silken thread. "I heard that you are getting married." Immediately, Tenar saw the stooping figure stiffened. Tenar waited but did not push him. Indeed, it took a while for him to say something, Tenar almost gave up waiting.

"It isn't a marriage." The answer sounded muffled on her lap, yet Tenar who had been listening heard him.

"It isn't?"

"The Kargs are trying to strangle me," he said still not looking up, though a little louder this time.

"By giving you their princess? How come?"

"He's twisting the peace treaty."

"Too political. I don't get it."

"Everything is too political when I'm concerned." The king sighed and looked up to meet her face. To say that she wasn't surprised was an understatement. In fact, she was taken aback by the face she saw.

_Lebannen, he was… he was scowling… _

Tenar had never seen him scowl. A deep thinking frown, yes, but not a scowl. In fact, she hadn't the slightest idea that the young king would be capable of making one. Honestly speaking, she had always imagined him smiling all the times in his letters.

"I don't know, Tenar. I have never been so in rage in my life. I have been through uncertainty, before, indecision, pain and remorse but not this! Right now, I just don't know what to do." Right then, the young king's voice had risen to a notch, and his pale skin had turned slightly pink. "For five years, I've built up trade and tried to keep on good terms with Thol, because he's a warlord and I don't want my kingdom pinched, as it was in Maharion's reign, between dragons in the west and warlords in the east. And because I ruled in the Sign of Peace. And it went well enough until this. Till he sends this girl out of the blue saying, if you want peace give her Elfarran's Ring, Your Ring, Tenar! Yours and Ged's!"

Tenar hesitated a while, "She is his daughter, after all. Maybe he did mean a marriage, a true bond." Yet, she knew even beyond self-doubt what it was.

"No, they are trying to chain me, Tenar. If I refuse the proposal, the Kargs will be my enemy, and I don't want that." His voiced trailed away to a mindful silence. All that, and he was left again with the only option, _that_ only option. Instantly the scowl was back in place and his lips pursed. An uncharacteristic childish groan almost escaped him.

"I don't know her. I've never seen her. I've never talk to her. I've never even know how! What does that crazy Thol think? The King of Havnor to baby-sit a princess? I don't even speak her language. Oh, what am I supposed to do with her!"

"Erm.. Marry her?"

"Tenar!" he whimpered burying his face again in her hands. Were she in a different situation, she would be laughing at him then. The words 'he's stuck with her' were pathetically written all over his being. Yet, pity would be the best way to describe how Tenar felt towards him. But, one shouldn't pity a king, for he was the one who was born not to be, raised and trained to be so strong that he didn't deserved to be pitied, who shouldered the responsibility instead, in protecting others, his people, his land. But, casting all the ranks and what he was trained to be, beyond all that, Lebannen was a mere human being. Everyone had been hard on him, everyone expected highly of him as much as he did to himself. For twelve years he had worked hard to protect his people, rebuilding the ruin that is his kingdom.

_But, who then, protected him? Who had stood up behind him and swept the blood and tears for him?_

Being in that position, looking all like a lost child, Tenar's motherly instinct was immediately aroused. She couldn't help but to feel sorry for him.

Arren felt Tenar's gentle hands on his head caressing his smooth black hair. He had no words to tell on how grateful he was to that simple gesture. It calmed him down almost instantly. Since courtiers were always ceremonious and cautious on how and when they touch the king, after he was crowned, few people did touch him that way. But Tenar wasn't. She laid her hand on his, laughing, smiling. Truly, it reminded him the most to his mother.

Mother.

If only she was still around to give him counsel. She would know what to do to with the girl.

Oh, indeed, it would be a great thing if she was there, living, and he could hear her voice, see her eyes under dark arched brows, touch her hands. And he could simply say everything he wanted and she would understand. But, now that she was gone, he had unconsciously bothered Tenar with that foolishness. Foolishness indeed, for he had written to her to help him with the problems of the dragons, not some arranged marital issues. Yet, she had arrived at a time he was most vulnerable, he couldn't help it. And she was the mother that remained to him.

As he thought about his mother and Tenar, however, another woman suddenly came into the picture. It was faceless and unreadable and it came in a red headdress. Thinking about her father and the political tie between the countries made him forget entirely about her. He saw what happened during the leave taking ceremony. He saw the grief that she felt, a glimpse of what might be her mind. He saw that she, just like anybody else, was a human being, being pushed into the circumstances.

"She…she shouldn't be dragged into this," he later said regretfully. "It was my fault. I wrote that letter to her father. Really, it wasn't fair for her." He looked back into Tenar's surprised eyes with sudden resolution. "The princess, she shouldn't be dragged into this. I can't marry her. Maybe I should return her. I'll deal with Thol however it is."

Tenar hated to tell Lebannen the truth, but he needed to know it.

"If you return her, she will be killed." For once a look of horror emerged from the king's eyes, replacing his resolution, crumbling it down. "A return consort is a disgrace, no matter for what reasons," Tenar explained. "That's what they do in Kargs." Lebannen's face had turned pink again, and it was getting redder furiously to put anyone in that perimeter beyond any comfort. Yet, before he could burst out, cursing Thol and his barbaric customs, Tenar reached out and touched his cheeks, smiling at him pitifully. "Lebannen, get to know her. The princess might have a mind of her own in this matter. Perhaps it will give you a leeway or what not. I'll go and speak to her tomorrow since we use the same language. I'll even teach her Hardic, if I should. And you, Lebannen, just concentrate on the things you have to do, alright?"

And to that, with heavy hearts, he said nothing.

They said nothing, in fact, about the princess even during the royal dinner in the castle. Lebannen had politely introduced them one by one to the guests, and they greeted Tenar back rather more politely than she was used to. They asked her about Gont, about Sparrowhawk and about some of her past adventures in the Tomb of Atuan. Tenar seriously didn't want to go back there, not that the wounds were never healed, but to Tenar those memories were dark memories and they were harder still to be retraced. When Tenar's hand started to uncomfortably snatch a fist of her dress under the table, Lebannen had changed the subject for which Tenar was grateful. Tehanu, however, had remained silent the entire meal.

When the dinner ended, Lebannen bid good night to all the guests and personally walked Tenar and Tehanu back to their chambers. There were no other attendants with them, just the two women and the king and Tenar had never felt at ease after all she had gone through during the dinner. "I would like to apologize, Tenar, if any of the men offended you." Tenar smiled gratefully to the young king and knew that he must have noticed her discomfort in some ways. _Always so sharp for his age._

"Not at all, Lebannen, they are good people, they just didn't know that it would be hard for me and you had been a great host." Lebannen smiled back and later turned towards the silent Tehanu and tried to make her talk. He got nothing, though, but a scowl from her.

As they walked, Tenar's mind drifted. For some reasons, she wasn't entirely settled with everything around her. Perhaps it was the impending threat that Arren had explained during the dinner, perhaps it had been awhile for her to travel so far from Gont, perhaps the cattle and the goats at home were left unfed, perhaps Ged being too busy with the fence had forgotten to feed them, perhaps he hadn't, and worse, perhaps he even had forgotten to feed himself. Tenar sighed. Being a farmer's wife was hard, harder even than being a priestess since she had never felt so distracted in her entire life.

Tenar came back to the sound of Arren's voice asking a few questions to Tehanu. _How do you feel being in the castle? Is it worse than being in the ship? Knowing you, you seem to hate being in a ship, don't you? I take that as a yes since you are all too quiet. Are you always so quiet like this? Why?_ Sometimes she remained silent; sometimes a quiet annoyed voice came forth. She heard a respond of both triumph and amusement from him whenever the latter happened and she knew that Tehanu understood what the young king tried to do- a reason why she was more annoyed than ever. After all, all the questions he asked weren't that important, anyway, just to cheekily get some responds from her now and then, and Tenar smiled at how much Tehanu had slowly opened up to him, though not entirely… Tenar remembered when the two of them had met for the first time, he was worried and all concerned for her and she being the hard child she was – with the shock and everything- had ignored him completely. It was just a bit funny to recall the scene right then.

_Right, and it seemed Lebannen would have none of that on their second meeting._

"Good night, Tenar. May you have a good dream," Lebannen said when they reached their chambers.

"Thank you, Lebannen. It was really a good dinner." Lebannen politely stooped over her and gave her a hug. There was a sudden warmth within her as he did and Tenar had never felt so grateful and proud of him. He gave her a shy smile, then.

"And you too, Tehanu." Lebannen carefully reached over, hugged the girl's small frame and planted a chaste kiss on the forehead. He chuckled as a wide-eyed Tehanu stared back at him incredulous. "Sleep well," he said. Then, the king left.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Two meetings

Tehanu will never forgive Tenar for this!

She knew she will never be angry with her mother that long, but she couldn't help to get a little rebellious right then. After all, she wasn't used to be abandoned by her. Not in this castle. Truly, not in this castle.

She remembered that Tenar had tried to teach her something about independence once in a while back in Gont. She told her that she was sometimes too frosty for her own good and that it was worrying for young girls her age to be that way. Tenar too had said it with such exaggerated worry in her eyes that Tehanu couldn't help but agree to engage in such lessons, like going to buy bread at the market by herself, or deliver some milk to the neighbours with a smile on her face. Those lessons were currently on hold once they had set sail to Havnor, though. She just hadn't expected that it would start again after two weeks.

Tehanu was currently in a council meeting right in the middle of the bloody royal throne room while Tenar was off to meet something less intimidating, less dull, of course, like the princess. It wasn't like she was dying to get to know the princess to have awaken such envy yet she would be pretty relieved and secured if her mother was around during the council. Tehanu was begging Tenar to accompany her like she had on the first meeting yet Tenar told her sternly that she had to go visit the princess as promised. In truth, she had promised Lebannen to see the kargish princess the next day after they had arrived, yet Lebannen had told her not to rush and he later had been plotting things or events that could hinder Tenar to do so for two weeks straight like accompanying Tehanu for a meeting, taking Tehanu for a stroll or shopping in Havnor's famous bazaar and others.

"He, himself hadn't had any time to go meet the princess, why did he try hard not letting me to, then, after all these times, that strange dear boy. I must head to the River House today." With that Tehanu's face fell, and if Tenar hadn't known any better, she must have thought the huff that escaped the girl was a growl.

"It's alright, Tehanu," Tenar said with a soft smile that was uniquely hers. She cupped her daughter's cheek gently in one hand and brushed her fringes with the other. This time a growl escaped her for real and Tenar laughed fondly. Truly, as a mother, she didn't need a dragon lord for that to be translated. "Oh, you will be just fine," she told her smiling. "Lebannen will be there at the council and he will take a good care of you."

With that Tenar was gone.

_And Lebannen will take a good care of me…_

_Lebannen… _

_That cheeky excuse of a man they called a king… taking care of me?!_

If possible, Tehanu didn't want to cross path with him again, that sly king, how come Tenar called him 'sweet' and 'dear' like those cute little dragon hatchlings which hadn't reached even one week of age? A blind person might as well tell. Of course, she remembered the kind young king that had held her in his arms that day when she was a child, though hurt, scared and broken she was. His voice was like a security blanket that lulled her to sleep and he was warm, soft and smelt very nice.

But, that was a long time ago, and he wasn't so sweet and dear as she had imagined he would be right now because he wouldn't stop pestering her when he had a chance, asking ridiculous questions that she didn't want to answer, watching her with a curious look that spoke thousands challenges just for her to make a crazy comeback at him. Oh, she almost called him a git, one time – which of course, she didn't considering he was a king and no one called a king git - during a dinner after shooting her one of those looks, and instead, an annoyed 'what' echoed dramatically throughout the huge dining room like it was the first sacred word she had ever uttered. Damn those anti sound absorbent brick walls and yes, that's all he will get.

She swore that would be all he will get from her!

But, Tehanu could not forget that irritatingly charming triumphant smile that spread across his lips right afterwards. It looked as if he had won a great battle that he had not expected to and Tehanu could do nothing but seethed. If she could, truly, Tehanu would jump across the table right to his majesty's chair and wipe the smile off his face. God, to sum in up, he was a nosey git who was just plain annoying and Tehanu had no idea how she could end up being in a council meeting and in the same room with him… again.

A man had risen and spoken something and Tehanu did nothing but ignore him. She didn't know who he was, but he was young, noble looking and _finely_ dressed – which almost put the king to shame, she supposed – and Tehanu assumed he was one of the invited delegates who was absent on the first meeting and had just been briefed of the whole situations. He appeared shocked somehow, despite how hot and well-known the issues were supposed to be and he asked some questions that made the wizard Micheal explained the whole thing again.

An old sorcerer beside her kept clearing his throat now and then. It seemed to her he was thirsty or having a sore throat. Being a girl her age, Tehanu felt the urge to offer some help in fetching some water to him, so that she could escape the meeting for a while, at least, but the man refused to look at her and kept his sight straight to the finely dressed delegate, looking all but confused or just plain bored. With a sigh, Tehanu nervously took a chance to scan the other members of the council, looking for a glimpse of what they were thinking. Not knowing who they were might be quite depressing indeed, but knowing what they think might ease her a little, she hoped. Yet, every time the councillors saw her or met her eyes, a strange grave expression hovered on their faces and Tehanu wasn't so sure if it was a frightened look or a scornful stare. Yet, she sure didn't feel like looking at their faces again afterwards. Tehanu had some brief ideas of what was that all about, so, to avoid such awkwardness, Tehanu steered her eyes elsewhere, her brain half-working half-shut down, wondering when it will end.

The king sat on his throne, unlike the kindness and fondness he had always showed them during breakfast, lunch and dinner, his expression was curiously stern, and he was dressed in his formal robes looking all big and important. Though she loath to admit it, it scared her when the king was behaving that way. Well, surely, he was the king, and not behaving like one – such as the pestering person he was or the ridiculous chatterer - might not be appropriate since he was there leading the council and they were clearly discussing some pressing matters right then. Yet, she can't help to feel somewhat alone and out of place, being with some ministers, councillors she didn't know, pompous delegates she didn't bother to listen to and sorcerers she couldn't understand. She was, after all always the youngest in every group and every meeting.

Always the quietest one…

Always the most different…

Tehanu hated it when they gave her that look, no, that stare. Not just the members of the councils, the courtiers and servants included. Sometimes, during lunch when the king was not around, some servants would pass her those stares as they came in and spread the food on the table. Sometimes they would whisper among themselves at the corner of the room while she ate like she was some animals that couldn't hear or understand. Alas, being a dragon she could hear a mouse squeak miles away if she wished, and they were just in the same room. Try being in the same hole with somebody who backbites you, Tehanu was sure the king would let her burn something down, like the kitchen, at least.

Every time that happened, Tehanu began to wonder if the horrible scar on her face had simply scared them off or revolted them to no ends. Yet, she had seen worst scars on the face of men and they indeed, lived quite a normal life in Gont. Thus, maybe those people knew who she was, frightened by what she really was. Perhaps, without her knowing, her identity, her origin, her difference was written quite clearly on her face and in her eyes. Her claw like hand, she supposed, had surely told them something.

In truth, some had known about it, but not many. The king had introduced her as her true self to some of them, specifically the council members, and presented her as one of the very special guests in the palace to the others. That was to say only the ministers and councillors knew the real reason of why in Earthsea she was there, but to be disgustedly stared at by most of them, gentries and servants alike, Tehanu reckoned rumours could spread quicker in a palace, maybe, much quicker than in the village. She noticed that not everyone had treated her that way, though. The wizard Micheal had always been kind to her despite a blank look she always gave him and some lords who knew Tenar were quite neutral in some ways. However, facing all those looks and scorn even once or twice in a day… still hurt.

If possible she didn't want to be long in this place, if it wasn't the king who had requested some help at first; she might not have come at all. She wondered if it was such a terrible thing to be half-dragon. No matter how much Tenar had assured her that it wasn't, far at the bottom of her heart, she doubted it still. After all, even her real parents had abandoned her, had tried to kill her, and burnt her just because she was…

Tehanu stiffened.

Her meaningless thoughts were all gone once her eyes accidentally met the dark pairs up on the throne. She hadn't meant to be in a trance, hadn't intended to ignore the discussion completely but every time she was distracted, felt isolated, getting uncomfortable, restless or even bored during a meeting, the king will always be the first to catch her. And he will shove her way a piercing gaze that made her almost shudder at the silent attention. Well, shudder she did not but her hair did bristle like she was about to fight.

Truly, no one had the same gut to look so piercingly into her eyes that long. She heard from the servants one day that people weren't supposed to look straight into a dragon's eyes for they will be cursed or turned to stone. That explained why they had been walking that way in front of her, or maybe every time they came across her – a stooping brisk walk that eagerly turned into a run as if they had an errand running late - and they would just sometimes scamper away like mice. The king's friends might look at her and greet her, but it won't be long before they dragged their sight elsewhere and turned away.

But, the king was an entirely different case. And Tehanu, ever the one to avoid attention, hated it to no ends.

Because he will always award her with that look, the kind of look that was, somewhat… purely Tenar's or Ged's; which Tehanu always found so staggeringly intense, knowing and understanding, like he did right then. He didn't smile when he looked at her. His lips were flat and tight like he was pondering, seeking decisions. Yet, she could clearly see the smile, his ever knowing smile, his endless concern, his happy teasing, the gentle fondness that he never tried to hide, all were blended together in those orbs. As much as she hated to say it, the king's dark intruding eyes had immediately melted all the doubts and fears that had been eating her during the trance, and she, of all people, became somewhat too mesmerized in that gaze that only when a quiet smile truly formed on his lips had she turned away hastily with a scowl. She couldn't help to feel rather warm inside however, as if her inflated air sack was heating up, tightening to her core and her cheeks reddened like she was about to breathe fire.

She had no idea how much she felt inside showed, but knew as plain as day that it had somehow judging by the sudden amusement that crept on his witty face, his wise sparkling eyes. That day, the king had gone as far as pulling a gloved hand over his mouth as if to stifle a laughter that nearly broke and she fumed at his poorly hidden smile underneath his fingers.

_He's laughing at my red face, that stupid king!_

Still, that wretched royal skin he called a mask hadn't crumbled, and the king recovered quickly from the brief confrontation and responded to the councils like he had not been teasing someone and was listening all the time up from the beginning. Oh, how much Tehanu wished that he would stutter at least or be caught playing during the meeting but that never happened.

"We must stop them before it's too late." Tehanu turned back to the speaker after the king shifted his attention back to a rather loud and commanding voice. It was the young delegate who spoke and he had risen from his seat again looking downright emotional. "Let us make a trap, kill one before their kin. Let it be a lesson to all of them!" There was a great deal of murmurs and commotion among the council members and he smirked looking quite pleased in gaining such attention.

"Kill them?"

"But how? We need a huge snare in order to do that." Questions rained down in his direction and he looked all the more satisfied. He stood in his fine dress, shoulders slightly squared and his young head tilting upwards with confidence. "I knew a good way to make them come," he said somewhat maliciously and all ceased to speak, waiting in apprehension.

The delegate suddenly steered his sight Tehanu's way and she saw his dark cold eyes which were never meeting hers landed somewhere suspiciously on top of her head. Nothing good ever came when a person looked at her that way, and Tehanu could feel her personal brick wall rising up around her, wondering what kind of iron balls he would catapult her way. Seriously, up from the beginning, she had felt an amount of dislikes towards the man, a reason she did not feel like listening to him. Granted, he had some noble blood in his veins, and acting haughty and pompous would be something like a second nature to him. Still, she felt that he was overdoing it a bit. Even the king wasn't being so exaggeratingly expressive just to gain attention from the council.

"We have the dragon woman, haven't we?" he declared. "I'm sure we could put her to good use." At that moment, Tehanu bristled listening to the sharp words ringing in her ears. Tehanu might be a docile child despite her inborn tempers, she can be stoic even, if she chose to, yet there was no breakaway to the anger that seared her being right then. How dared he say something like that? How could he say things like she wasn't even there, like she couldn't understand his language? And, on top of it all, he addressed her like she was nothing but a tool, a scapegoat to be sacrificed in a war, a weapon to bring demise to her own kind, an unspoken enemy to the whole kingdom. That thought alone made her feel sick. If she wasn't so small and out of place, she might have jumped onto him. If she wasn't so scared, so wounded with his words, she would claw him or sent him flying with just a huff of her breath.

Wizard Micheal was about to protest when a quiet voice rang from the top of the throne. Immediately, Tehanu calmed and she turned back to look at Lebannen just in time to see a strange flicker in his eyes. For a brief moment, her breath was caught in her throat and she fought the urge not to inch away in her seat. Never in her life she spent in Havnor had she seen that look in the young king's eyes. If possible she did not want to see it again nor did she wish to be at the receiving end of it.

"Lord Devon, I would like to remind you that it isn't for that purpose I requested Tehanu of Gont to be here." He was far from yelling, merely speaking, yet his tone was rich in warning and his eyes gleamed with something akin to forced-contained anger. No counsellors of the courts should answer the king when he was cross. Most of the lords were aware of this and Tehanu didn't fail to notice the abrupt silence that rendered the hall after that was said. With that mood, it was apparent that the bold delegate would really get it if he wasn't careful. Somehow, being a delegate from a distant border, Lord Devon was not used to the royal demeanour, it seemed. The young insensitive lord was absolutely clueless about this and continued to press on the matter.

"Then, for what purpose, your majesty, if the better use is always there in front of us?" he countered boldly. He raised a finger to point at Tehanu's direction and without looking at her proceeded to prove his point. "Let the girl lure those creatures to our trap. Prepare a herd of cattle or something. They will come, I'm sure. After all, dragons are just vicious greedy creatures. All that they ever wanted, I presume, are just the wealth, the sustenance, the prosperity our land are having. Is it not that the very reason they waged war on Havnor in Maharion's reign? Human had grown in number and they were left to be isolated far deep in the forest. As mighty as they were, surely they would want to change it, wouldn't they?"

"_It wasn't the case." _

Immediately the council was silent and all confused eyes were drawn to the very speaker that stood small and shy but stern among them. To say that Lebannen was surprised was an understatement. In fact, he was beyond astonished right then. For the first time after weeks of arriving in Havnor, he had finally heard_ her_ voice. There were times when she had hissed at him an annoyed what, or a bored hmph, yes or no, but never before her mind, or feelings were fully conveyed to his ears, let alone to the public. A full sentence coming straight from the girl must have said a lot. And her voice was beautiful, piercing, firm and thunderous in her own way that it was impossible to be ignored, impossible to be simply unheard. Tehanu saw every eye was fixed on her face then, including the king's dark ones and she could feel her legs slightly trembled. She could taste disgust in some of those stares, confusion, surprise, which further deepened her anxiety, but the expression swimming in the king's eyes was something truly unreadable. He seemed to be for some reasons- dared her to say it- silenced. If Tehanu were in another situation she would laugh out loud to his face. He should have seen it himself, that priceless look…

Well, if ….

Instead, Tehanu felt a sudden insecurity rushing all over her being now that she realized she had stood alone among the people, their stares uncomfortable, the silence ironically ears grating. She had not expected such extreme reaction before she spoke. Truly, she almost regretted speaking at that time, but speak she must. Such great falsehood was directly thrown to her kind, to the dragons and it wouldn't be long to spread around poisoning the people's mind if she didn't mend it now. Besides, she had a score to settle with that impudent man, delegate or not. She gulped, imagining holding Tenar's hand as she stood beside her.

"I am most certain that it wasn't the case," she repeated, her resolve strengthened, her eyes slightly shone anew. She looked straight to the delegate meeting his eyes only to find extreme anger creeping in them. He had every reason to be angry at her, she knew. After all, she had stood against his words, she, a lowly peasant girl from Gont..

"How can you be so certain if everybody else in this room had already known…"

"Lord Devon, let the girl speak." At once the sharp commanding voice echoed in the great throne room again, cutting the delegate in mid-sentence. Tehanu was a little angry to the fact that he couldn't finish it, that she couldn't hear what the man had to say. But, far at the bottom of her heart, she appreciated it all the same. Never in her life had she stood up to make a much scandalous refutation to someone powerful in status and figure. The foreign emotion that was swirling in her veins was too hot and strong, she could feel her small knees shook.

After tossing a frown to the much heated throne room for all to see, successfully gaining a dead silence as how he wanted, the king looked expectantly straight into Tehanu's eyes, waiting as he always did. "Speak Tehanu," he said softly, carefully in case she will never continue. In truth, the girl had never said anything to him since she came, even about the dragons, and Lebannen couldn't even bring himself to ask thinking how awful it was to throw a responsibility so heavy on the shoulder of a sixteen year old. Tehanu was well aware of her burden; he knew that, the girl understood why she was there, the minute she decided to come to Havnor. All that she hadn't told him was whether she was fine with it, whether what he's requesting her to do would not harm her in any other way. He was always wishing to hear something from her, anything, in fact he was dying to reach this moment, to hear her voice.

The way he rudely treated Lord Devon, he didn't care if they detest the favouritism. He was the king, whether they like it or not.

Tehanu would hate it if they were in the dining room chatting about stupid bazaars or ships as they ate. And the king would simply ask for her opinions about some random things that she clearly wasn't interested in or sounded totally silly to her ears. He purposely did it most of the time and Tehanu hated him for that as how she would hate him right then, waiting, his dark eyes truly fix on her, daring her, almost pleading her to speak. She would ignore him as she always did, relishing the pleasure when the king inwardly wept in defeat as she ate silently with a blank face. Yet, in the throne room that she officially hated, standing among the people she thought she couldn't possibly be accepted in, truly, she couldn't ignore the truth in his eyes, the sincerity written all over his features.

"Your majesty, it was true that among the dragons they envy the human's wealth, and among the human they envy the dragons' liberty. Such had brought a painful war for hundreds of years and many people and dragons died because of it. But the war ended. Under the Dragon Kellesin's leadership, and with the last counsel's from the dragonlord Sparrowhawk, they had finally made their choice, to go back to their true nature as how they should be." Lebannen looked into her eyes, questions beaming inside them, urging her to elaborate.

"Sire, by nature the dragons are the creatures of ancient magic. They may have been born into this world… as the essence of the human themselves, their equals, but in time, they evolved. Their existence is incomparable, unparallel to any other beings for… they do not belong in the world of the living or in the world of the dead." There was a rush of sadness to her heart as she said those, knowing the truth of her real positions. Accepting that truth, however, had explained a lot of things, like why she couldn't be accepted, why she couldn't call any place her home and why, despite Tenar's and Ged's love, her heart was still broken to pieces. The king's knowing eyes had softened then, for some unknown reasons, being washed with a flash of sadness she couldn't fathom. If she didn't know any better Tehanu was probably certain that he could actually read her thoughts. "That is why fighting them is not the answer to solve this."

Then again, despite what she said, the delegate rose back from his seat, his features red and furious. The king had ignored his privilege to speak before and he had never felt so humiliated thanks to the little girl who stood right in front of him." Ancient magic, she says." His tone was full with sarcasm. "That will make them sly enough, sire! All the more reasons to destroy them." With that, Tehanu had had enough.

"Please, my lord, I will not say that if I were you. Their wisdom is not something to be looked down at," Tehanu said warningly.

"How wise can the _lizards_ be, girl?"

"They know spells, knowledge that human children have long forgotten."

"So you are saying the dragons are so great that they are not something to be trampled with?"

"I am saying there is nothing for them to gain here. They already made their choice, have what they want, not wealth, not sustenance, not prosperity unlike some countries that try to strengthen the ties by sending insolent delegates to Havnor."

"You, how dare you to insult me!"

"_That's enough! Both of you." _

With that the existence of the council members came back into view. Both Tehanu and Devon were pretty much astonished to find themselves so immerse within the argument that they had practically ignored their existence, including the king's which was quite a huge mistake on their part. Lebannen glared daggers at the hot-headed debaters and had no idea that the council would turn into pretty much of a headache in the end. He didn't mean to glare like that at Tehanu, but he was surprised that she would contribute into the conflict considering how timid and stoic she had been for these two weeks. Yet, with extremely bitter words railed at her, he thought, he would react the same way in her shoes. And Devon, well, he was basically asking for it.

Noticing the disquieting look on the king's face, Tehanu quickly backed away. She may be young to judge the depth of things but the look Lebannen had given her told her that she had indeed ventured on a dangerous layer of ice. Politics was never her thing, and she had no intention to delve in it either. She shamefully hoped that insulting the delegate would not harm Havnor in any way. The king later turned disdainfully at the man looking downright exasperated.

"Lord Devon, I can see you have made light of Tehanu's existence, speaking as if she was a tool in spite knowing that I have specially invited her here as an important member of the council. I would be greatly offended if I were her, and all the more offended as who I am, right now. I hope you are aware that such behaviour, like belittling my guest and disrespecting me is unacceptable in this council as well as in Havnor's law and I assure you there would be great consequences to that. Therefore, I warn you, Lord Devon and everyone else that no such provocation or discrimination will ever occur in this council again, not even in this castle or in any part of my realm." His voice was absolute and every one had shrunk in their places including the still smouldering Tehanu even if he had in a way stood up in her favour. Lord Devon had literally sunk to his seat and never to rise again.

Lebannen stared at the faces of each people in the hall waiting for anymore opinion from the floor yet no one dared to say a word again to him. King Lebannen, though still young in age, fair-faced and gentle in nature still cut an imposing figure up on the throne. Only a fool would go against such a commanding presence. After a moment, however, the stern eyes then drifted back to Tehanu's, all anger quickly washed away to politeness and fondness she had known. Somewhere in between, traces of guilt lingered in those dark orbs and Tehanu felt somewhat sorry for him, dissipating her wrath entirely.

"Tehanu, I had met the dragon Kellesin once when I was not yet crowned," he told her truthfully and she saw surprises among the councillors' faces. The king then regarded his people, honesty and assurance clearly written in his eyes. "Unlike what we believe of the dragons, Kellesin was a wise, thoughtful being. I do not believe the dragons had done what they had just because they could. There must be a reason they had done so, perhaps, some kind of retaliation." The statement somewhat calmed the people in the hall and to her relief some had nodded agreeing to their king. Looking at the girl one more time, Lebannen asked her to speak again, his eyes shining in earnest.

"Tehanu, I want to hear what you have to say." Lebannen's face was grim. Thin lines were quietly creasing his brows depicting how worried he had been, how much thoughts he had spent thinking about it in every single night. Tehanu somehow understood him and had no intention to ignore him like she always did.

"Sire, it is true that the dragons will never attack people so easily unless they were threatened. If they weren't, I'm afraid, we have to ask them ourselves."

"Alas, we could not speak the ancient language and even if I could, my lady, the dragons might not accept our conference so easily." Wizard Micheal said regretfully and with that the atmosphere in the throne room had literally dropped again as if a never-ending winter had just struck. Tehanu turned back towards the king finding his piercing gaze already fixed on her.

"Then, what say you to the request in my letter, Tehanu of Gont?"

His voice rang inside the silent throne room and rippled strongly to the depth of her soul. Tehanu quietly closed her eyes and sighed.

Truth be told, it was a matter Tehanu would like to sidestep, of all the things. The day she read the letter, she bluntly told Tenar that she wanted to go to Havnor, do the job, help the king, get it over with, and in a flash fly back to Gont as fast as she could, no questions asked. She had long accepted what she was, or so she thought she had, and even if she did try to help by being who she really was, still she couldn't deny the blunt pain that crept all over her every time she faced the truth.

The truth.

Seriously, it will always be there, forever to lurk behind her like a fretful headache. All that Tehanu ever wished was for her to have Tenar as her mother and Ged, her father. And they would always live happily in Gont. Still, it didn't change the fact that she was a progeny of a dragon, the mighty creature's blood running in her veins, and she could not help to feel it, the significant traits pulsing, living in every parts of her being. It was a solid line drawn that harshly distinguished her from her beloved parents. Indeed, the same they were, yet so very different. And the small house, the quiet island they called Gont, no matter how much she liked it, loved it, will never be the place she truly belonged. Remembering that truth broke her heart every single time. That was why she never did talk openly about dragons to anyone, not even to Tenar.

"Tehanu?" The girl looked back to find the same sad worried look on the king's face and she held a steady gaze on him as he did on her. The lulled silence between them was almost magical and it was revealed to Tehanu's eyes the sight of the king that stood strong, fearless and commanding and yet accepting his weakness all together. Tehanu herself was not an ordinary girl, so to speak, but Lebannen could clearly see it, her fear through all that strength and he will do anything in his power to support her in this unwritten alliance. Tehanu might not have plainly understood it, might be too young to be aware of it, but indeed, an unspoken bond was built between her and the king at that point. Even if Tenar wasn't with her, even if her beloved mother was nowhere in this castle, in the room to ease her, Tehanu had never thought it could equally ease her that much, his voice, his presence.

That was why, despite all her doubts and fears, she will boldly stick to her decision…

…come what may…

"Your majesty, even a half-dragon, I still do not know the way to their place. All these years, it was Tenar and Ged who had raised me, who had protected me, taught me a lot of things. They are those whom I've spent my entire life with, my very world. So please… please, Sire, take me to their place, take me to the dragon's lair and let me parley with them."

Two weeks moving on three. Saserakh sat in the seat of the River House when a group of unfamiliar guests arrived. The servants and attendants were dressed differently this time; she thought that the king had paid a visit. But when they spread out in the royal hall, revealing only two important looking ministers that stood at the side, her heart stopped pounding and her face grew blank. She wasn't sure if it was disappointment written on her face – not that any of them could see her expression under the headdress – but she had truly nothing more to expect after those uneventful and confusing days, confusing since she couldn't understand a word they were saying.

And, the king had never come to greet her, no, not even once. Not that she wanted him to come, though. If he did, what would she say? And she too, ever the stranger, had no idea whether she should go to the house of Maharion where the king was. No one was telling her anything, no one was there to guide her. Will it be rude to intrude or will it be even more terrible to just do nothing. If she decided to go there someday, what should she say, how should she say it, and who should she see first before the king? She sighed. Truly, growing up in the tents of Hur-At-Hur among none other but warlords had given her no chance to learn these things. Courts etiquette, was it?

There was an announcement made and Saserakh stared trying to process what was really being said as the attendants and courtiers made way for another important guest. All of them seemed to have quieted once a lady entered the hall and Saserakh's concealed eyes instantly fixed onto an older figure that moved towards her. She was wearing a normal plain white dress, almost the same as the servants, and if Saserakh hadn't known better, she might have passed her off as one of them. But, her eyes had told her differently, they were a pair of bright blue eyes that she was curiously used to. Never mind the bitterness that shone inside them, most people had those along with painful memories that scarred their lives, but these eyes, wise and knowing, gentle and caring, Saserakh could not sweep away the warmth familiarity that came to her heart. And the braided grey hair, there was no mistaking it, the faint tawny shades among silver, the true colour of who she really was, like a lovely smile being concealed for a long time. Thus, she was smiling then, at her, and she, despite the veil, smiled happily back at her. She was old, Saserakh concluded, but there was no denying the uncompared beauty the feature had once uphold, and still held even in that age.

Judging by the solemn looks the ministers gave her, Saserakh knew that she wasn't just any lady in the kingdom. Just don't look at the plainness of the clothes she wore, the glow of her presence itself had spoken volumes of her importance. If Saserakh hadn't known better, she might have thought that she was the queen mother instead. Or, wasn't she?

Two servants carefully put down a carved wooden box in front of her in which Saserakh could plainly see tiny glinting jewellery which looked to be a ring. Silent awe crept to the surface of her heart knowing what that ring was. The lady bowed to her as did the others and after she had raised her face the soothing smile was still on her lips.

"Greetings, Princess of Kargs. My name is Tenar of Gont. I am here on behalf of the king to deliver to you the Elfarran Ring."

For the first time in her life…

_Oh, for the first time in her life…_

Tenar bowed respectfully to the red figure in front of her while wondering to herself whether she had correctly said things. Her own mother tongue sounded foreign to her ears now being unused for a long time. Yet, since the language was ingrained within her, she could not help the marvel that came to her having the beloved words flowing fluently on her tongue. The dialect spoken in Hur-At-Hur was somewhat different than her though, but she knew the meaning was almost the same. The princess will be able to understand her.

On her way to the River House, aside from thinking about the well being of Tehanu, Tenar admitted that she was somewhat nervous of this meeting. Granted, she had gone through a hellish training for flawless religious ceremonies and rituals in her youth and Thar's stern criticism was something she would never forget, but there's nothing like the meeting she was heading to right then. If Arren was there with her, things wouldn't be so awkward…

Well, scratch that. Things will be extremely awkward and complicated with him there, considering his still stubborn indecision in what was to happen between him and the princess. Sometimes, despite his honesty, Tenar failed to understand that young man. She heard from the others that there was a great deal of gossips and speculations of who will be chosen as the king's bride before the princess arrived. Knowing Arren, it must have been quite a hassle to him and what's worse, as a king, he can't stay single forever no matter how inviting the prospect may seem to be. Marriage and having an heir was one of his many responsibilities, his obligations to his people. However, as royalty, he must have understood what little choice he had regarding marriage. He should marry, but clearly enough he wasn't interested to propose to the much tittle-tattled daughters of this or that said nobles who keep marching through his hall.

Then, why refused the princess if Thol had - though not quite sincerely – offered him the best solution?

Well, whatever it was, it would ease Tenar greatly if the king was present when they meet the princess, and things wouldn't be so disorganised or incomplete as it seemed. Tenar seriously did not know what to say when she reached the castle. After all, there wasn't any written protocol for this kind of ceremony after the reign of the last king, five hundred years ago.

"I am sorry for the king's absence, my lady." Tenar turned to the lord riding beside her carriage, a look of both regret and uncertainty mixing on his face. Lord of the West was older than the king, but still very young in his late thirties. Still, she could tell that he had been serving the court longer before the latter was crowned the way he calmly spoke with the others and the refined air which he carried himself with, dignified. Now as the lord commandeering the western borders, he was one of the people Arren trusted the most, a reason he was there accompanying Tenar on the first place. "This meeting was planned a week earlier but there was another terrible dragon's attack which calls for an urgent meeting with all the council members and alliances throughout the realm." No doubt he was required to attend as well, yet, since the king had commanded him to the River House, Tenar was grateful that there was someone important, the king's right-hand man being sent with her.

"It's alright, my lord. The king had already informed me earlier," Tenar said with a smile. Recalling Arren's miserable look last evening, with both regret and guilt eating up all his wits, she couldn't really say no, could she? In all seriousness, Tenar hadn't expected him to mention the princess during dinner. She couldn't even imagine that he decided to give the girl the ring despite what he said when she first arrived. He must have given a serious amount of thought within these two weeks as he worked to distract Tenar from the matter regarding the princess and must be pretty devastated finding that things couldn't go as planned.

Thus, the ring was entrusted to Tenar to give to the princess however it was. _There is no one else that is more worthy to give the ring to her. Just you and Ged. And even if I could attend it, I would be none other than an audience. Alas, there is nothing I wouldn't pay to witness it. _Surely, she had never seen him looking so completely torn before.

"Looking at the grave circumstances Havnor is in now, the king's decision was for the best," Tenar continued and the young lord could only nod in agreement. Well, they both knew that the meeting with the princess could wait for just another day after the council had made up their mind with the dragons. But, the councils might as well dragged on for maybe three to four days, and the king will never be able to stand it so long as the ring weren't yet settled, glistening happily in the princess' finger. Vague as it may seem, Tenar somehow had a feeling just how urgent Arren wanted to settle it regardless of his controlled expression. And just how the king secretly felt, she too seriously thought that the meeting with the Princess could not delay. She had been ignored long enough. If the king was too busy to see her, someone should be sent to entertain her at least.

"Alas. Dark days of our ancestors are upon us again. I just hope that the history will not reoccur and the council would reach a better solution. And the king…" he trailed, a noise resembling a sigh escaping his lips. "…he was really looking forward to this meeting."

To that, Tenar said nothing.

With the sacred ring in her hand – truly, she almost forgot how it looked like – heading to see the princess and Arren absent, oh, she really hoped that the king had come, because it looked like he had given the princess the ring with obvious reluctance – even if it was true- or passing the ceremony off as something not worth his notice. Well, no wonder Lord of the West had apologized in his stead, he must have thought the same way. Even though Tenar had seen how sorry Arren looked last night during dinner, the princess hadn't seen it and must have caught the wrong message, knowing the Hardic language or not.

Then again, this meeting reminded Tenar so much of the Ring Ceremony, a pre-marital engagement ceremony practised in the king's home island, Enlad, in the olden days. Arren, being young wasn't quite aware of this, perhaps. All that he had in mind was to deliver the ring to the princess as he had promised for the treaty without marriage. Tenar knew he had no intention to marry the princess on the first place and that's the only way he could succeed the treaty without it for the time being. But, doing just that, sending Tenar to give her the ring while he, himself wasn't there had somehow escape his notice, or had it not? She read in the old book from her priesthood years that the groom was not allowed to attend the Ring Ceremony, only his mother and the bride-to-be. It was the mother who had the right to slip the ring to her finger and with that the engagement will be sealed. Somehow, Tenar doubted whether the king didn't want to marry the girl, or was he still in denial to truly admit it, who knows.

Maybe, the king did look forward to the meeting after all.

Back in the throne room, just as the memories faded from her mind, she was suddenly rewarded with the sight of the red princess finally stirred. And just as suddenly she moved up, much to the horror of the people in the hall, hopping recklessly down the dais, running forward, and almost stumbling straight into Tenar's arms. The impact had almost gotten Tenar toppled down in the middle of the royal throne room, if it wasn't the experience of raising a lot of energetic children in her life taking hold of her, bracing herself of the inevitable force. Then, it took a while for her to register what had truly happened, to really hear the heart-breaking sobs that followed and feel the tiny hands clutching the small of her back for dear life. There was a cacophony of noise among the servants and noble alike and Tenar looked up to the Lord of the West to find him equally shocked as she was, if finding his eyes as wide as saucers was anything to go by. The rest of him was still rigidly composed!

"Arharîn… Arharîn!" the princess cried, muffled somehow by the veil over her face. Since Tenar alone knew the language and was near enough to hear her, she looked down to the princess in her arms carefully, calmly despite how taken aback she was. Indeed, it had been quite a while for someone to call her with that name and the fact that the princess had, had triggered a siren somewhere in her head. She tried to pull away instantly to give the princess a proper look, but the girl kept holding onto her like her very life depended on it and the cries continued to increase to a certain degree that left everyone in the hall baffled. Judging by the quizzical looks, Tenar knew that such episode had never occurred in the castle before, nor would it be a norm there or whatsoever. Tenar should be quick in decisions, should never let the respectable princess break down in front of anyone.

Therefore, before the cries could really turn to some uncontrollable wails, she gently pulled the weeping princess to her feet, shooting a quick meaningful look to the Lord of the West, and dragged her away to one of the back chambers in what she hoped was the most gentle, civilized way rather than the grab for it and flee. The servant who ushered them looked somewhat uneasy and worried. Tenar cast her a smile of polite gratitude and slipped away. They ended up in one of the antechambers and she led the princess to sit down. The dam immediately burst right then.

It was a good thing that Lebannen hadn't come, Tenar thought. At least she didn't have to deal with two confused children at the same time.

The princess continued to cry. The sobs were raking through her slender bodies in heart-breaking shivers. The gasps echoed painfully to Tenar's ears, leaving her wondering what had gotten into the princess' mind. Princesses, despite their delicate upfront, were always born tough and fearless; Tenar remembered someone had told her that a long time ago. They had too many responsibilities to let themselves easily broken down. What had really happened to reduce such a wonderful princess to this state? Tenar quietly neared the poor girl, rubbing a soothing hand onto small shoulders and back. "Your Highness, please do not cry," she began carefully and with her most comforting motherly voice, the sobs gradually quietened. "What is the matter? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Small hand rose over her head and with a silent tug, the princess grimly pulled the headdress down to reveal the most striking face Tenar had ever seen. Her hair was a crown of tawny red that set off her ocean blue eyes to perfection, a special trait - that Tenar noticed instantly -given to the women from Kargs. Her pink rosebud mouth tightened to a grimace towards her, something Tenar supposed as extremely depressing to see, showing a mournful but charming dimple on her delicate cheek. Oh, she's so sorrowful and…lovely! Lebannen would be insane to turn down such a good-looking face.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked. Her low voice barely audible under the strain of her sobs and gasps. "I-I do not mean to cry. But, it's too much I couldn't bear it!"

"There, there, dear princess. Please be at ease and do tell me what is wrong. I will do anything to help you." Tenar looked kindly into the teary blue eyes, reading them, studying them.

"Oh, there's nothing you can do to help me," she said raising her long slender hands to wipe away the tears. "And there's nothing really wrong either. The servants had done a great job. They fed me well, dressed me so exquisitely, I could have thought that living in my tents back in my home was a life in a mere shed. And the king sheltered me, gave me a chamber with the greatest scenery."

"Then, why are you crying?" 

"I-I"

Tenar quirked an eyebrow upwards, eyeing and studying the other suspiciously until the princess finally wavered.

"I'm just… lonely, I think," the princess said rather shamefully in a broken quiet voice and even before she did Tenar had expected as much. The agony of isolation dancing in her cries and sobs was unmistakable; no wonder there's some insane summersaults pulling at Tenar's heartstring when she saw it. She knew she had done the right thing by coming over. "It-It just had been… quite a long time for me… Well, almost as if… for the first time in my life, for the first time in my life… someone had spoken my language." Tenar's heart instantly melted, to both sorrow and fondness towards the girl. Tenar, being abducted herself and shoved into the dark tomb once, seriously could not shoo away the deep sympathy she felt towards her.

She had been a common girl once upon a time, who grew up in the middle of the dessert, playing and laughing in the sand, as how Tenar was in a forgotten kargish farm. Both had been snatched away to the kind of life which they least expected. The High King was just recently brought to the throne. This girl in front of her, though undoubtedly born, destined to be a princess, might still be learning to cope with this rather demanding life, the stress of royal duties, the unspeakable loneliness. That was why, back in the throne room, she quickly dived into the common familiarity, in the form of Tenar, the exact moment she saw it.

"And for the first time in my life, I met you, Lady Arha! The high priestess of Atuan!" And like before, she reached out to her, clasping her arm securely not letting it go. Her baby blue eyes gleamed into Tenar's as if she had seen something so miraculously profound, a ridiculous dream being brought to life, a hope in which she was finally being rescued. Such feelings, Tenar had felt those the day she met that insanely reckless wizard. And she hadn't been wrong to give her trust to him.

Tenar extended her own hand to touch the other's cheek. It was still wet with tears but the smile brightened as the princess clasped a hand over Tenar's, breathing in and giving away the same amount of love and fondness Tenar had towards her. Tenar felt a smile on her own lips as she held tightly onto the bond that was forming between them.

"I do not go by that name any longer, your highness. Some people call me the White Lady, but you can just call me Tenar."

"Tenar," she repeated with both wonder and appreciation in her eyes.

"And I had come on behalf of the king to give you this." Tenar opened her hand to the princess to reveal the sacred ring lying on her palm. Tenar had no idea when did she made the grab for the ring in her haste to take the princess away. But, now that she had, she hadn't regretted it at all. It was quite an advantage to discuss it then, since no one who spoke Hardic was around and the princess had calmed down. Tenar looked at the princess' vibrant gaze and smiled. "The Elfarran Ring, as King Lebannen had promised. And, you will therefore be called the Lady of Peace in Havnor from now on." With that, the princess started to cry again.

Tenar's face changed from solemn to fondness and downright horror as the wails broke again. The girl scampered away from the antechamber with sobs and sniff in her wake and Tenar despite her age went hurriedly on her heels. The other door led them to an opened large balcony where the view of the famous river greeted Tenar's sight. She was silent for a minute as she took in the scenery. It was the first time she had seen the river from this vantage point. The princess was right. The king had given her a place with the greatest picture. Still, the solitary princess stood in the middle of it all, demure and small in her grief though in truth, so much tall and pristine, her tawny hair brilliant in the sun.

"Why, princess. Please tell me what is wrong." Tenar's voice was soft and careful. She didn't want to break ties with the princess again. But, the topic of the ring, a reason she was there for, was making things quite difficult.

"I do not want the ring, Tenar. That's the reason I was sent here, and later prisoned by those… those sorcerers." For once she saw anger in the gloom of the princess' eyes and apart of it all, she could see a trace of uncertainty and… fear.

"But, that's the very reason why Kargs and Havnor are allies now."

"Well, that's what father said," the princess stated rather sadly but not without understanding. "He had been saying it over and over I had lost count of it. But, that doesn't change the fact that I was surrounded by those sorcerers now. They maybe speaking very gently to me, but they may as well put some enchantment on me, like what Cuinar said, like what they did to young Ereb when he first came to this land some years ago. Oh, why did Father chase me away? He could rule the place just fine. Make alliance with Havnor any way he wants. But, why did he send me here? I could not understand a word they were saying, even the king." The princess looked back into Tenar's eyes, looking scared and helpless. "Is it true that he could just command me through his words? And that, he could just… control me. He hasn't come to meet me yet. Is he planning something magically horrible for me?"

In any other situation, Tenar might have laughed out loud to the highness' face. In all honesty, she hadn't thought that she would still believe in those stories. Tenar did when she was young herself and was also one who was well aware of Kargish stigmas towards sorcery. Granted, there were some nasty stories involving magic some times, if there wasn't, such place like Roke would never exist. As compared to them, however, controlling people through names should be the least of her worries. The princess was still very innocent.

"Nay, that is where you are wrong, princess. Sorcerers are indeed many in this land but, none of them could come freely and destroy. The king had decreed a law upon them and forbid black magic. In this castle, their arts will not be used unless necessary and if it could ease you greatly, your highness, King Lebannen is not a mage."

The princess' blue eyes widened for a brief moment looking as if she had said something very silly. Then again she quickly looked away, grief and disappointment in her features.

"But, he didn't said anything, hadn't even come. I knew that he didn't want me. He gives me the ring just because he wants to keep the treaty, he doesn't want to marry me. Maybe, he doesn't even want to give me the ring. Why didn't he send me home already? I would rather die than living like this!"

Tears threatened to fall again, Tenar could see them gleaming at the corners of her eyes. Still, Tenar had nothing much to say about it. Her opinion might even be true as well. It was expected of her to come to that conclusion and Tenar didn't blame her. She knew it was difficult for her, how isolated, how uncertain. But, she too had seen how indecisive, how troubled Lebannen was. Running a broken kingdom was quite a mess and the dragon was another. The princess' sudden arrival was something that greatly confused him. Indeed, it had been difficult for the king as well. He just need time to accept it.

"He will come, my dear one. It's just that he had an important council meeting today, he couldn't miss it. And when he's ready, I'm sure he will come to face you. Here…" Tenar took the princess' hand and they both sat on the cold balustrade facing each other. Tenar opened her palm again and carefully fingered the smooth ring in her hand. "This ring once belonged to Erreth-Ekbe, a mighty sorcerer that befriended the King Maharion a long time ago. It is said to be a great talisman to keep peace in the whole kingdom which was first forged for Queen Elfarran. Surely, I know nothing but that to the whole history of the ring. If you ask my dear husband, he might know a lot better than me, it was his country after all. But, to me…" she paused, old memories running in the film of her thoughts and a tiny bitter sweet smile emerged on her lips. "To me this ring was a gateway to friendship, sincerity, and even love. It shone a light to brighten our path, it shooed the darkness away from your lonely world, blasted all the doubts and fears, it gave you… your freedom. No matter how great the ring meant to Havnor, no matter what he sees in King Thol's intention, Lebannen still decided to give this ring to you."

The princess looked into her eyes long and deep, her baby blue eyes quivering ever so slightly. Something was stirred deep inside her heart, like an old mysterious window finally opening. Various questions raced inside her head, but she could not bring to ask them all at once. Tenar saw the conflict but stayed silent, leaving the girl to ponder by herself. "But, why? Why would he do that?" Tears were dry before she knew it and in unawares a hope was rekindled back in place, strong and firm within her soul. Tenar smiled.

"This is something you have to find out on your own from him."

"But, I didn't speak Hardic, and neither did he speak Kargish."

"Don't worry, I will come to accompany you each day and teach you something."

"Really?" Tenar's smile brightened and so did the girls', an unspoken promise made between the two. Just then, Tenar stood up, taking a last look of the beautiful princess against an equally breath-taking background. She knew Lebannen hadn't been wrong to give the ring to her, and this will be the beginning of a wonderful future. She took the other's hand gently in hers, positioning the sacred ring with the other. The princess looked uncertainly at it but she didn't protest this time.

"Saserakh." The older lady paused waiting for the princess to finish. It took some time for her to continue as if it was for the first time she had confessed such a thing. Yet, finally she sighed, smiling like she had won. "Tenar, my true name… my true name is Saserakh." With that, Tenar slipped the ring into Saserakh's slim finger.


End file.
